


"Escalation" and an interlude: "In the Silence of the Night"

by jamelia116, Rocky_T, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [7]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, F/M, The Borg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: Remember when the name 'Borg' struck fear in the hearts of everyone? When the Collective was not to be trifled with? Voyager's most formidable foe returns with a new method of attack -- and this time, Resistance really may be Futile.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 episodes are being transferred to Archive of Our Own with only minor edits, if any. "Escalation" is an exception. Rocky_T and jamelia116 have edited and extensively revised this episode to expand it into the form that was conceived for the segment by the VVS7.5 writers' group in 2001. Important details necessary for a smooth transition into the next episode, as well as others in the future, have now been added. We gratefully acknowledge the significant contributions made by SaraKJ, a member of our group in 2001, who helped us devise the framework for this episode. Thank you, Sara! 
> 
> As always, the Disclaimer must appear here: Paramount and its allies and minions own all of Star Trek, including our beloved Voyager. Since the characters haven't had a lot to do lately, we thought we'd give them an opportunity to express themselves again. We like to keep them busy.

** Prologue **

 

Dark and silent...they required little light with their enhanced vision; conversation was unnecessary for beings such as they. Hot and humid...the temperature and humidity suited their bloodless, pale bodies. Powerful and purposeful...their ship struck fear in beings in every quadrant of the galaxy. Their unwavering devotion to their purpose was unlike any other. The massive ship moved through the quadrant, its denizens ambivalent to these and all its myriad of characteristics. These were nearly perfect examples of their kind; nearly perfect in their single-minded search for perfection. Soon they would be perfect...

 

The Queen listened to Vessel 7462, trying one last time to determine if they were already infected; changing drones already susceptible to the danger of Unimatrix Zero would undermine her purpose. She must have drones that were uncorrupted... incorruptible...

 

_...Chemical compound in grid Alpha-Gamma 27 identified as non-reactive..._

 

_...Course correction: alter heading negative .04 degrees...Implemented..._

 

_...Internal vessel temperature lowered 1 degree..._

 

_...Unimatrix 47 initiating regeneration..._

 

_...determined species 9763 inferior technology, undesirable, assimilation futile..._

 

_...stellar body 8847 containing two occupied planets, vessel 3095 to investigate and examine potential for assimilation..._

 

_...oxygen, nitrogen levels remain at optimal levels..._

 

_...incoming message from Unimatrix 01...standby..._

 

She filtered out the random thoughts of the rest of the Collective and directed her thoughts to this chosen unit. _"Borg vessel 7462, you will now enter regeneration. Alteration of neural transceivers is required. Comply."_

 

 _"Acknowledged. Entering regeneration..."_ There were long moments of silence untroubled by anticipation or trepidation; they simply waited until all were ready to report. _"New neural pathways established."_

 

She was somewhat unprepared for the demands of their new connection. She felt her body slump as she adjusted to it. The Queen smiled around her pain; smiling was irrelevant to her drones, but she still gained much satisfaction from the gesture. She watched from her command center and issued her commands.

 

_"Proceed to specified coordinates and wait for further instructions."_

 

_"Acknowledged."_

 

She grimaced once more as the completion of the new pathways brought the full brunt of this new Collective onto her shoulders. The strain would lessen; it was of no importance. She listened to vessel 7462 as it adjusted to her new communication and her smile grew more chilling. It was good to once again know she was in complete control. These drones would serve their purpose well. With no chance of becoming individuals these drones would rid her of the Janeway annoyance for eternity. She would add that biological and psychological distinctiveness to her own. And, the pain was of no importance.

 

 ***

 


	2. Act 1

** Act 1 **

 

**[Local Ship's Time: 1901]**

**Captain's Log -- Stardate: 54455.5**

 

_"We continue to travel at yellow alert. The data is still inconclusive, but I remain convinced that "sensor ghosts" we've been seeing over the past few days are in fact Borg cubes. While we cannot confirm they're Borg warp signatures, there's something that tells me our old friends are back. Our last encounter came yesterday at 1550 hours and as before, the ship, or whatever we detected at the outer edge of our sensor range, disappeared when we took a heading in the opposite direction. The crew remains vigilant; they are concerned but at this point still willing to hope for the best."_

**[Local Ship's Time: 1947]**

Crewman Mortimer Harren paused at the entrance of Astrometrics. "Icheb? Aren't you coming tonight? Hasn't your relief shown up yet?" he asked the sole occupant of the lab. "Celes didn't stand you up again, did she?"

 

Icheb turned away from his intense study of the sensor readings to answer his friend -- at least, he supposed Mortimer was his friend. Such concepts were still new to the young former drone, especially when he tried to attach such labels to members of the crew -- that is, to members of the crew who were not Naomi Wildman. She was the one person on board Voyager he knew unequivocally qualified for that title. "Celes was here earlier. I sent her away."

 

"Did you forget our appointment? I waited more than half an hour and thought you were just running late. When you didn’t answer my comms, I thought I’d come by and see what was keeping you."

 

Icheb responded with a slight smile, which flickered away almost as soon as it appeared on his lips. "I'm sorry, Mortimer. I should have contacted you to tell you I wasn't coming. I wished to complete my analysis of the recent sensor readings recorded about our...our ghost. Celes had already worked an extra half shift today. She needed to rest. I told her I would cover Astrometrics until Jenny Delaney arrives at 2400."

 

"What about you, Icheb? You've been working just as hard, between your studies with Tuvok and working extra shifts in Astrometrics ..." Mortimer's voice changed, taking on what Mr. Paris called a "wheedling" tone. "You know, you could use some rest and relaxation too, Icheb. Deck 15 is really quiet this time of night. You can just sit back and listen while I explain my latest discoveries. I've finally proved that [Schlezholt's Theory of Multiple Big Bangs](https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Schlezholt%27s_Theory_of_Multiple_Big_Bangs) can't possibly be correct. You don't have to respond...unless, of course, you recall something from your Borg memories that conflicts with my findings..."

 

Mortimer could go on for a long time in this vein if Icheb didn't stop the engineer before he became too enamored of the sound of his own voice. "I'm sure it _is_ much quieter on Deck 15 than here," Icheb quickly replied, when Mortimer paused to take a breath. "But I don't think I'd be able to relax there tonight. At another time, I would enjoy coming to Deck 15 to speak with you about your findings, but I believe I would be unable to concentrate on anything other than these anomalous sensor readings tonight. Could we reschedule our meeting for next week? I will be free Tuesday afternoon and evening."

 

Placing his hand on his chest and sighing dramatically, Mortimer conceded defeat. "All right, Icheb. I understand. I don't think I'm on the schedule for next Tuesday evening, either. And if I am, I'll switch with someone. By then, maybe we'll know what these 'ghosts' are, so you won't have 'anomalous sensor readings' stealing your attention away from the really important things -- like the true origin of the universe!"

 

"Thank you, Mortimer. I will see you next Tuesday evening."

 

Just before the engineer walked into the corridor, however, he leaned back through the door and said, "But if you change your mind, you know where I'll be tonight."

 

Icheb's smile was broader and more genuine this time as he said, "Yes, Mortimer, I know. Have a good evening."

 

 

**[2047]**

 

Harry Kim studied the Kal-Toh board, trying to anticipate the next move before Tuvok made it. They were virtually alone in the Mess Hall at this hour, but a day spent watching for more signs of what could be Borg had taken their toll on his concentration. When the Vulcan reached out to make a subtle change to the lower left quadrant, Harry sighed in frustration. "I didn't see that coming at all."

 

"The answer, Ensign, often lies in that which is not directly visible."

 

Harry nodded as he concentrated on his next move. "Kind of like those sensor shadows that keep appearing. If the captain is right and the Borg _are_ out there at the edge of sensor range, I wish they would just _do_ something. All this waiting around is getting to me."

 

"To wish for the Borg to initiate an offensive is illogical."

 

Harry nodded as he touched the game sphere. It changed shape but did not settle into a final position. Harry leaned back in his chair. "I recognize it's lacking in the logic department, Tuvok, but as a species, humans are not exactly the most patient beings out there." He smiled self-deprecatingly as he continued, "And I've been told I'm a pretty fair specimen of the species, so I'm no exception. I would rather face whatever the Queen and her drones can throw at us than continue to hide. Even that's better than traveling along on constant yellow alert, fearing that at any time drones will suddenly show up on the bridge."

 

"Giving in to such fears at this point would be an inappropriate response."

 

"At this point? Tuvok, we've had six separate course changes in the last five days, all due to sensor ghosts. It can't be just computer error. They're out there, following us. How can you sit there and pretend that nothing's wrong?"

 

"We cannot confirm the sensor readings are truly Borg." Tuvok rested a finger lightly atop the imperfect sphere. "Logic dictates that we continue to proceed with caution. Further speculation at this point serves no constructive purpose."

 

"I would think that you, of all people would recognize the need to protect ourselves. Our last encounter with the Borg wasn't exactly a walk in the park for you or your team."

 

Tuvok looked across the game as it shimmered and changed shape, its sparkle casting momentary shadows across the Vulcan's dark face. For a nanosecond Harry thought he detected fear, or perhaps anger, in those brown eyes, but then it was gone. He marveled at the level of control Tuvok must have over emotions that lived beneath the surface.

 

Tuvok leaned back and steepled his fingers, centering himself. "As Security Chief, it is my duty to fully recognize all dangers to this vessel and her crew. Believe me, Ensign, I do not take these sensor readings lightly. We will respond quickly and with force should the occasion demand it. However, I will not allow emotions to cloud my judgment. Until these 'shadows' reveal themselves, we are in no danger. Any action other than the increased security measures now in place would be detrimental to our productivity."

 

Harry studied the game again. "I hope you're right, Tuvok. I really do."

 

 

**[2051]**

 

Chakotay rounded the turn in the corridor just in time to see her exit her quarters and head for the lift. Grinning, he quickened his pace to catch up with her. "Just where do you think you're going?" he asked, in a mock accusatory tone.

 

Janeway stopped in her tracks but didn't bother to turn around. "The Bridge, Commander. Not that it should make any difference."

 

"Uh-huh, I knew it."

 

"Knew what?" she responded.

 

"Did you think you could break our dinner engagement and I wouldn't know what was going on?"

 

"Why would anything be going on?" She turned to face him. "Chakotay, I've probably broken our dinner engagements at least a hundred times in the last seven years. Why would you think something was going on?"

 

"Because one hundred broken dinner dates means one hundred times you've been up to something. Kathryn, you cancel dinner when you don't want me asking questions about what you are doing."

 

Janeway smiled in spite of herself. "Shouldn't you be spending this unexpected free time doing something constructive? Cleaning the carpets, perhaps?"

 

"I'm saving that for something special." He paused. "Come on, Kathryn, tell me. You know I'll find out anyway."

 

"OK. You win. I'm going back to the Bridge to check for more sensor data."

 

Chakotay nodded, not at all surprised at her revelation, and allowed a serious note slip into his voice. "Checking the sensor data again won't help. Even you can't control everything, you know. If they are out there they'll make their move in their own good time. Spending sleepless nights on duty won't bring it any sooner."

 

"Maybe," she conceded. "But I have a hunch, Chakotay. We dealt the Queen a hard blow when we uncovered Unimatrix Zero and created the Resistance. She isn't going to let that go unpunished. I know that, just like I know they're out there. The sensors may not be able to verify the presence of a cube -- yet -- but my instincts can. It's coming, and soon. I can feel it. And I'm going to be ready for it, no matter where it is."

 

It was his turn to concede. "Maybe, but if you expend too much energy looking now, you may miss something important when the time does come."

 

She touched his arm gently. "That's your job, to keep me from losing my way."

 

Chakotay acknowledged the compliment with a small grin and an almost bashful nod. The lift opened, and together they stepped inside. Kathryn stole a sidelong glance at her exec. "And, where do you think you're going?" she asked, echoing his words in a transparent attempt to lighten the mood.

 

Chakotay smiled. "The Bridge, Captain. Not that it should make any difference. If you're right, I want to be there." The lift doors began to close and his grin turned wicked. "And, if you're wrong, I'll make sure you get a good night's sleep."

 

 

**[2116]**

 

Seven entered Astrometrics to find Icheb exactly where she had left him several hours earlier; 3.47 hours to be exact, she reminded herself. "Icheb, your duty shift ended 2.16 hours ago. I thought you were to visit Crewman Harren for a cosmological discussion this evening. Why are you still at your station? Where is Ensign Tal Celes? If I am not mistaken, she should be on duty for Gamma shift."

 

The boy did not look up from his work, "I told Ensign Tal I would take the shift. I rescheduled my meeting with Mortimer Harren. I was working on this and didn't want to stop."

 

Seven frowned. "Working on what? Your assignment is to monitor our boosted sensors for signs of Borg activity."

 

"I am monitoring the sensors. But if I can increase their sensitivity again, I might find evidence of the Borg."

 

Although Icheb's eyes were fastened upon his work, the uncharacteristic quiver in his voice as he spoke alerted Seven that more was going on here than Icheb's single-minded devotion to his duty. Seven took hold of Icheb's arm and turned him to face her. "I am detecting elevated signs of anxiety. What exactly is the nature of your unease?"

 

Icheb glanced away, clearly unsure if he should or could confide his apprehension to Seven. His surrogate sister simply waited; she had, after all, inexhaustible patience.

 

When Icheb began to speak she released his arm. "I don't know that I have any real reason to feel this way. It may be my mind is playing tricks on me. Naomi said it was just my imagination."

 

"Naomi is an expert on imagination," Seven acknowledged, "But -- what is it that you think you may be imagining?"

 

"I might be hearing the Collective."

 

She answered gruffly, to try to disguise her surprise, saying, "Your statement is illogical. Either you can hear them or you cannot. Furthermore, with no main cortical node, you should be unable to detect the Collective. I have detected no communication with the Collective even while regenerating. Please elaborate on your confusion."

 

Icheb shrugged, a gesture he had picked up early in his interaction with humans. "It is similar to the sensation I have experienced at large social gatherings with the crew. For example, when Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim held their pool tournament in Sandrine's, I was encouraged to attend. I remember being struck by the large number of crew present for the evening’s festivities. As I neared the holodeck I could detect those already gathered even before the doors opened."

 

Seven nodded. "You could hear them while you were in the corridor."

 

"Yes. And while voices and conversation were not distinguishable, I could clearly identify the 'buzz' of their communication."

 

"And you think you are experiencing something similar to this with regard to the Collective?"

 

Icheb shrugged again. "Perhaps. It is not as distinct as my example. I hear nothing as I sleep, and last night I had a regeneration sequence during which I detected no communication. Your past experience indicates an increased likelihood of contact while regenerating. Since I did not experience a contact last night, it would seem less probable that I am hearing the Collective. However, I have experienced the sensation twice. Each time, it corresponded with the appearance of a sensor image, and ended after the captain ordered a course correction. Both episodes lasted no more than 2.3 seconds."

 

"During both occurrences, you were certain it was the Collective?"

 

"It sounded as such. Perhaps it is only my imagination."

 

"This would not be the most opportune time to develop an imagination," Seven said, with only a trace of irony.

 

The sound of a sensor warning interrupted their conversation and brought both former Borg to the terminal. Seven scanned the data quickly and touched her communicator. "Seven of Nine to the Bridge."

 

When the Captain's voice was the one that responded, Icheb took comfort in knowing that he was not the only person working late. _"Go ahead, Seven."_

 

"Sensors are picking up another vessel. Bearing zero, three. Mark 2."

 

_"Are they still shadowing our course?"_

 

"Affirmative. The reading continues to be inconclusive, but there is a 43% probability that it is indeed a cube and not a sensor anomaly."

 

_"We're going to adjust course again, Seven. Let me know if the readings intensify."_

 

"Acknowledged."

 

Seven looked to the boy at her side. "Icheb, you should monitor our signal output to insure maximum efficiency during our maneuver. I will..." she stopped talking as she realized he was not listening. After a moment he seemed to shake off his stupor and looked toward his mentor.

 

"That was _not_ my imagination, Seven. I hear the Collective."

 

"Is it the same as in previous encounters?"

 

The boy shook his head, "No, it is more distinct, but still unclear. I can hear them, but not their individual words. What am I to do if they initiate contact? If I am drawn to the Collective, I pose a danger to this ship and crew. Seven, why can't you hear them?"

 

Seven glanced at him sharply, detecting elevated readings in his bio-signs, in particular, heart rate and breathing. "You must remain focused on the task at hand. The likelihood they will attempt to draw you into the Collective is remote. Focus on your assignment and monitor your data."

 

Icheb nodded and turned, taking deep breaths in an obvious attempt to calm himself. Seven kept an eye on him while turning towards her terminal, hoping she was not making too light of Icheb's obvious fear. _Perhaps I should send him to the Doctor,_ she thought.

 

The course change prevented her from suggesting just that. "Interesting," she noted, only half to herself.

 

Icheb's voice was tinged with concern as he also noted the Captain's change in tactics. "She has changed course to move closer to the cube. The last three times, the captain has moved away from the source of the readings."

 

"Yes. Apparently, she is tired of playing 'cat and mouse.' " After studying the data for several more seconds, she activated her communicator. "Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."

 

_"Go ahead, Seven."_

 

"Captain, the unidentified vessel is not retreating, and sensor readings are returning more data. There is no doubt now. The vessel at our extreme sensor range is a Borg cube."

 

_"Acknowledged, stand by."_

 

Seven saw Icheb look in her direction and was startled to see a level of emotion in him that she was as yet unable to attain.

 

"Seven, my ability to hear them is increasing as we move closer." A startled gasp escaped him as he cocked his head and listened to voices only he could hear. "Icheb to Captain Janeway!" he shouted as he abruptly slammed his hand against the communicator on his chest. "Alter course! It's a trap!"

 


	3. Act 2

  **Act 2**

 

**[Local Ship's Time: 2122]**

 

Icheb's split second of warning launched both Janeway and Chakotay into action, even as the cube accelerated towards them with its tractor beam at the ready.

 

"Captain, they're approaching rapidly. They'll be right on top of us in less than three minutes," shouted Crewman Morris, the relief con officer.

 

"Evasive maneuvers, pattern Janeway Omega 6," the captain ordered.

 

Chakotay's response followed on the heels of her orders. "Arm all weapons. Set phasers to pattern Tuvok-Random Alpha."

 

"Target their weapons," Janeway added. "All hands to battle stations. We have engaged the Borg."

 

Voyager shook violently as the Borg fired a direct hit to the port nacelle. Janeway struggled to keep her balance and remain in her seat. _So much for a good night's sleep tonight,_ she couldn't help thinking as she clung to the armrest. "Return fire!" she called to her tactical officer.

 

"Shields at seventy percent," came the ops report.

 

"Captain, I can't shake them," Morris reported from the helm.

 

Janeway sighed. Cross-training Morris at the helm was one of Tuvok's better ideas -- just not during a Borg attack.

 

Voyager's first officer rose and made his way across the deck to help the inexperienced pilot. He nearly tumbled to the floor when another blast from Borg weaponry shook the ship. "Are they trying to shake us to pieces or blow us up?" he growled.

 

Reaching the helm, Chakotay gave Morris a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he took a look at the readings. They didn't have many options. The cube was almost literally on top of them and closing fast. Morris was pushing Voyager to its limit, but he now that he was over the shock of entering battle, Morris was doing a better job than expected.

 

"Engineering, all auxiliary power to the helm," Chakotay ordered.

 

Janeway glanced over her shoulder as both Tuvok and Kim exited the turbolift and took their stations. "Tuvok, we need to hold them off for as long as possible while we plot an escape route. See if you can't damage their weapons enough to buy us at least a minute or two."

 

"Acknowledged," answered the Vulcan as he took his station.

 

"Shields at fifty percent," Harry reported. An explosion from the console behind him spewed sparks, but Harry managed to remain upright. The lights flickered but then steadied, and Harry ran a quick diagnostic on internal systems.

 

Tuvok made several small adjustments to the phaser setting Chakotay had ordered and began attacking the cube in a pattern he had been waiting to test.

 

"It's working, Tuvok. They're losing power to the grids you're targeting," Harry reported. "They're going to have to shift to a secondary weapons array."

 

Voyager continued to shake as the Borg returned fire, consistently targeting the same weakened areas of Voyager's shields. Tuvok's new rotating frequencies were working, however. The main viewscreen showed the cube sustaining damage, and so far, the Borg appeared unable to adapt as readily as in the past.

 

"We just need a bit more time," Janeway said, studying the display on her monitor.

 

"Who the hell is driving?" Paris demanded to know, almost before he exited the lift.

 

"No time for criticism, Paris. Just get over here," Chakotay snapped, his hands flying over the controls alongside Morris' efforts.

 

Voyager shook again and Harry grimly announced the result. "Shields at twenty-six percent."

 

Tom sprinted across the deck and slid to a halt at the first officer's elbow. "Sorry, sir. I was monitoring. I may have an ace for us."

 

"I'd settle for three of a kind," Chakotay answered, fighting to remain on his feet. "You ready?"

 

Paris relieved Morris, who looked grateful to get out of the hot seat. Paris on the other hand, looked eager to be there.

 

"Cube switching to secondary weapons array," Tuvok reported calmly. "They have adapted to our frequency rotations."

 

"Shields are failing," Harry offered without disguising his trepidation. "They're activating their tractor beam."

 

"Hold on," Paris announced. He took Voyager into a roll guaranteed to keep them safe from a tractor lock -- if they survived the maneuver. Coming out of the roll he accelerated and, without waiting for orders, set course for his selected destination.

 

"An escape route would come in handy about now," Chakotay said, glancing at the captain.

 

"Hold on," Janeway said tersely without looking up. "I've got something. There's a nebula bearing 03 mark 1. It contains ample concentrations of alpha-lethianone."

 

"We've lost shields," Harry reported.

 

"Go ahead, Tom," Janeway ordered. "Let's see if we can shake them loose while they can't see us."

  

 

**[2128]**

 

Engineering was in shambles as Voyager made its run away from the cube. The possibility of a new hull breach was foremost on Torres' list of priorities as she worked to control the damage the Borg were inflicting. It wasn't easy -- plasma relays were blowing up as fast as she could replace them.

 

A sudden noise make her look up and she saw drones begin to materialize at Substation 17. "Kahless," she breathed, as the drones strode forward. Her hand went to her side, and she gripped her phaser tightly, but the drones appeared to be ignoring the crew. Instead, they were heading directly to the main engineering consoles.

 

 "No! Stay back, don't initiate hostility," she ordered, as Vorik and Nicoletti took aim with their own phasers at the intruders. "They don't seem to be targeting us!"

 

Acting quickly, she moved to her own station, praying that her legs were faster than the drone moving toward her computers. "Computer, initiate departmental lock-down. Authorization Torres Twenty-two Sigma. Route all engineering functions to the Bridge."

 

_"Acknowledged. Transfer complete."_

 

B'Elanna glanced over her shoulder as the drones began attaching themselves to the ship's hardware. "Engineering to Bridge. Intruder alert."

 

 _"B'Elanna?"_ Janeway responded.

 

"Captain, I've got at least twenty drones down here and just a skeleton crew."

 

_"Get out of there, Lieutenant, before you're assimilated!"_

 

"They're not after us," B'Elanna said, already on her way to the exit. "They appear to be doing something to the engineering systems!"

 

_"Understood. Now get out of there while you can!"_

 

"You heard her, people. Fall back, now!" She waited until the last of her crew moved behind her before turning to the door. Her last glimpse of Engineering showed her two drones, injectors at the ready, approaching her station.

 

 

**[2133]**

 

"Status of the cube?" Janeway asked, knowing she could not save the crewmen in Engineering.

 

Paris glanced at his monitor. "In pursuit. The good news is, Tuvok must have hit them harder than we thought, because they haven't gone to maximum warp. We should be able to beat them to the nebula."

 

"Captain, I'm reading thirty drones in Engineering," reported Harry.

 

"Crew status?"

 

"I've accounted for everyone on Beta shift. They all got out in time. B'Elanna managed to reroute engine control to the Bridge and initiate the new lockdown sequence. The Borg have connected to the computer and are trying to work around the new protocols."

 

"Are there any drones in other areas of the ship?" the captain asked sharply.

 

"Negative. I'm not picking up any other signs of Borg."

 

"Thank the spirits," Chakotay breathed. "Still, the ones we've got are going to be enough of a problem."

 

"Let's hope not," Janeway replied. "Tuvok..." The Vulcan was already moving toward the lift, issuing orders to his security detail as he went. Janeway watched him and hoped their preparations would be enough. "Keep me informed of your progress, Commander."

 

Tuvok met her gaze as the lift began to close. "Acknowledged."

 

 

**[2135]**

 

"Bring him over here...quickly!" The Doctor called as Seven carried Icheb into Sickbay. "Is he unconscious?"

 

"I am conscious, Doctor," Icheb stated through clenched teeth. "They are unconcerned with my presence in the Collective at this time. However, I am unable to extricate myself."

 

The Doctor was running a neural scanner as he listened. "The activity in his remaining transceivers is increasing at an incredible rate. I don't understand. They aren't even supposed to function!"

 

"Can you determine how he is receiving this communication?" Seven asked with concern.

 

The Doctor shook his head. "We removed Icheb's main cortical implant to replace your own. His ability to communicate with the Collective should be diminished, or even non-existent." The Doctor turned worried eyes on Seven. "You aren't receiving anything from them?"

 

Seven shook her head. "I do not understand that either, Doctor. Perhaps Icheb's missing cortical node is the key."

 

The Doctor nodded. "Perhaps. My first concern is to determine what I can do to eliminate this new connection."

 

"NO!"

 

Startled, the hologram turned towards his patient and said, in tones of disbelief, "You do not _wish_ to be severed from the Collective?"

 

Icheb drew a deep breath and squared his thin shoulders, seeming to regain a modicum of control. "I can hear them clearly now, Doctor. There is something ...unusual in their interaction, something I don't understand. I will not jeopardize this crew's ability to gain information simply to relieve my own discomfort."

 

"But this connection may itself jeopardize the ship!" the Doctor exclaimed.

 

Seeming to dismiss the Doctor, Icheb turned his attention to Seven. "I believe we should contact the Captain. There is something about these drones that we must discover, something that makes them different -- and more dangerous."

 

Seven took only a second to consider the comment. "Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."

 

_"Go ahead, Seven."_

 

"Captain, please report to Sickbay. Icheb is in contact with the drones on board."

 

_"I'll be right there."_

 

*


	4. Act 3

** Act 3 **

**[Local Ship's Time: 2138]**

 

B'Elanna was waiting at the Deck 11 weapons locker when Tuvok arrived. "I issued phaser-rifles and two hand units to everyone here," she said by way of greeting.

 

Tuvok nodded in acknowledgement. "How many engineers are available for your mission?"

 

"For what we need to do, I only need myself and Gilmore. She's been helping me write the code. I just wish I had implemented this final stage when you asked, instead of working to reinforce the main bulkheads first. We wouldn't have to be going in there physically. I could have done all this from the Bridge."

 

Tuvok shook his head. "Do not second guess your decisions, Lieutenant, your priorities were logical at the time." He scanned the approaching security detail headed by Ayala. "Very well, we must begin. Our goal is to retake Engineering, at least long enough to accomplish our mission. We will conduct a frontal assault through the main entry. Lieutenant Ayala, your team will take the left. Team Beta will enter through the auxiliary entrance under the leadership of Ensign Dalby. Team Gamma will enter from the Deck 10 main entry."

 

Ayala nodded and took his security team to the main engineering doors. Tuvok signaled B'Elanna and her engineer and they took positions opposite Ayala's team.

 

B'Elanna touched Tuvok's arm. "They are rerouting the relays to take full control of the engines and life support. We have about ten minutes before they come up with a solution to our lockout. But, if you can get me in there, and keep them off my back, I can buy us more time."

 

"Understood."

 

Tuvok gave the word and Ayala forced the door. Together the Vulcan and his second charged through, into a meeting with hell.

 

 

**[2141]**

 

Tom gave a small sigh of relief as he took the ship into the nebula. "Made it this far...," he said under his breath.

 

"They aren't that far behind us. Can you get us deep enough into the nebula to conceal our signature?" asked Chakotay, as he studied tactical data on the captain's terminal.

 

"Affirmative. Within twenty kilometers, the alpha-lethianone levels will render their sensors completely non-functional."

 

"Phaser fire in Engineering," Harry informed them, trying not to sound as if he was revealing impending deaths.

 

Tom suddenly turned white as an unanticipated thought occurred to him. "Harry," he nearly squeaked, "where's B'Elanna?"

 

He knew the answer before the Ops Chief looked up from his station.

 

"She went in with Tuvok, didn't she." It wasn't a question.

 

Harry nodded.

 

Tom made an obvious effort to bring his mind back to the job at hand.

 

Chakotay looked over his shoulder, "Harry, keep a fix on them in case we have to attempt an emergency beam-out. Let us know what is happening."

 

"Aye, sir."

 

 

**[2143]**

 

Tuvok was pleased to see that they had managed to catch the drones slightly off guard. Apparently, their effort to reroute control around the security lockdown had claimed the majority of their attention. Logic dictated this to be an advantage against beings that needed minimal time for adaptation.

 

The fact that the drones had not gained control of the engines was B'Elanna's first observation. "They haven't broken through yet, Tuvok," she called, as the team opened fire on the drones.

 

The drones turned in response to the crew's entrance. The new phaser settings seemed to be working, and a handful of Borg fell quickly under the phaser fire.

 

Taking the kind of chance only a Klingon would deem acceptable, B'Elanna stood behind a data terminal and, ignoring the drones, focused on the status of her engines. "They're still at the third level. Damn it! They've gained ventilation control. I can't flood the deck with anything we could use as a weapon. At their current rate of computation we have about seven minutes before they crack your code. I need Gilmore. She'll be more useful helping me than holding a phaser."

 

"Acknowledged," shouted Tuvok as he fired his rifle at the nearest drone. "Thompson, Chell, Mulcahey -- provide cover for Lieutenant Torres and Crewman Gilmore."

 

He moved forward and the rest of his and Ayala's team followed. Tuvok noted that the Borg were rapidly adapting to their weapon settings despite the random cycling of frequencies. Soon the Voyager crew’s weapons would no longer be effective.

 

The second front halted the advance of a good number of the drones as Dalby moved forward. "Over here, you monsters!" Dalby shouted, drawing their attention away from the team at the main doors.

 

Several of the drones turned and moved toward Dalby's team. "Here they come," he called to his crewmen. "Let's show them what we're made of."

 

The rotating settings for their weapons worked just as expected. The first few inflicted damage on the targets, and several drones even fell under the second volley of shots. But, by the time Dalby and his crew were firing for a third time, the drones were beginning to adapt, their personal force fields repelling the fatal settings of the phasers.

 

"Prepare for hand-to-hand!" Dalby called, noting that at least half his team's shots were now completely ineffective. He tossed his rifle into the air and caught it by the muzzle. It was no longer a deterrent as an energy weapon, but by the gods it was a formidable club. He stepped into the path of the nearest drone, "Let me introduce you to the ancient game of baseball," he said almost casually, as he swung the rifle against its head. Absently, he wondered how the other teams were faring.

 

"Commander!" Ayala called, ducking the swinging arm of an approaching drone, "they're adapting!" Ayala caught the offending drone's arm and, reaching behind his back, pulled out his last phaser. The security crewman placed the weapon against the drone's chest and fired once. As it dropped to the deck Ayala grinned at Tuvok. "Can't adapt if I hadn't fired it yet."

 

The sounds of phaser fire from across the room and above were diminishing. Tuvok stepped in front of crewman Wilkins and smashed his palm against the advancing drone's chin. As it stumbled backwards, the Security Chief launched a series of hand combat blows designed specifically for fighting Borg. Gaining some measure of advantage, he reached out and ripped the circulation tubules from the drone's neck. The creature staggered further back and began to twitch as it hit the ground. Tuvok paid it little attention as he moved forward once more to engage the enemy and protect his people.

 

B'Elanna kept half an eye on her companions as she and Gilmore worked at implementing the advanced security protocols she had devised for this scenario. "And I thought Tuvok was being paranoid," she muttered to Marla.

 

"Lieutenant," Mulcahey warned, "you need to hurry. They've adapted to the weapons settings and we're losing ground. Tuvok's team is holding their own, but it looks like the others are getting ripped apart."

 

B'Elanna shuddered involuntarily, hoping he didn't mean it literally. "We're almost done, hold on. If this works it will buy us another thirty minutes, maybe even an hour."

 

Chell turned and took a flanking position to the engineer's right. "You have about two seconds, B'E. They're here."

 

B'Elanna punched the last of her code into the terminal. "Marla, you're already into that last block. You're going to have to finish. Make sure you sweep away that back door, and lock down self-destruct."

 

She looked up to find all three of her guards grappling with a drone. "Hold its arms," B'Elanna ordered, not waiting to find out if they could pull it off. Stepping into the fray she ripped the central pump from the Borg's chest, stuck her phaser against the rupture in its armor, and fired. The drone immediately dropped to the ground.

 

"All hands, retreat --" Tuvok shouted.

 

B'Elanna looked up to see Tuvok's team surrounded and losing ground quickly. "You heard him." she added. "Get moving." Ignoring her own advice she moved to Gilmore's side.

 

Tuvok closed the distance between them and took a position next to the Chief Engineer. Back to back the half-Klingon and Vulcan held their ground as the rest of the team disappeared through the main Engineering doors while Gilmore sealed off her handiwork. The engineer was oblivious to the danger the retreat was creating for her and her remaining two guards as three drones approached them unimpeded.

 

"Marla, hurry!" B'Elanna grunted as she repelled the first of their attackers. "Tuvok, we have to let her finish. Without that new level of code this whole sortie was a waste!"

 

Gilmore was calling out her successful execution of B'Elanna's instructions when the Borg overwhelmed them. B'Elanna and Tuvok were seized by several sets of arms and tossed aside. The drones did not pause but used the momentum of their advance to add power to their attack on the engineer still at the workstation. The attack was savage, a physical assault that did not follow any known pattern of Borg behavior. They made no attempt to use their assimilation tubules; instead, they seemed to concentrate on inflicting as much physical harm as possible.

 

Rising quickly to his feet, Tuvok pulled the nearest drone away from Gilmore's body as it raised her head for another blow. Superior Vulcan strength and concern for a crewman under his command provided the power to snap the drone's neck even as he lifted it.

 

B'Elanna launched herself at a second drone, striking it with both her feet and slamming its head against the bulkhead. Without giving the enemy a second look, she tried to ascertain the severity of Gilmore's injuries. It didn't look good. The engineer had several visible contusions, and her face was covered in blood flowing from a deep wound in her scalp.

 

"Lieutenant," Tuvok called out, "we must retreat."

 

As she stooped down and attempted to pick up Gilmore's limp form, B'Elanna quickly glanced around her engine room. Borg technology was beginning to advance across the face of her hardware, and more drones than she cared to contemplate were still attached to her terminals. There were bodies strewn about the floor; a few were in the crew's black and gold, while a significant number wore the black armor of the Borg. Tuvok came to help her; together they dragged Gilmore away from the carnage, through the doors of Engineering, and into the relative safety of a secured corridor.

 

**[2144]**

 

"Icheb, I need to understand just what you mean by this 'difference' you keep mentioning," Janeway prodded gently.

 

The boy struggled, without success, to find the words to convey exactly what he meant. "I don't know, Captain."

 

Janeway nodded. "Let's start with what we do know. They're transmitting on a frequency that corresponds to your secondary neural implants."

 

Seven and Icheb both nodded. Seven continued, "The removal of Icheb's primary cortical node has forced the other implants to adapt. I was unaware that these lesser implants would function without the primary unit, but, as always, Borg technology is adaptive."

 

"So what does that mean?"

 

Icheb was beginning to put his hunch into words. "They aren't like other drones. It's not just the fact that they transmit only to the secondary nodes; it's the order of their thoughts that is unnatural. There is no overlap, no combination of experiences from other drones. There is order, but there is no multiplicity. It's as if there is only one. I can hear them all, the thirty here and those still on the cube, but it's as if they speak with just one voice."

 

Seven was frowning from her effort to make sense of information that was clearly foreign to her. "The Collective is not a single unit. The variety and multiple points of input are what give the Borg their advantage. To speak with one voice is inefficient. There has only been one attempt at such a voice . . ."

 

Janeway looked at Seven sharply as the former Borg's voice trailed off. "Seven, are you saying this is like the Borg's attempt to utilize Locutus? One voice to speak for all?"

 

"Only in one way, Captain. I do not believe it to be an exact correlation." She turned her attention to Icheb. "Can you hear others? Those beyond the cube that pursues us?"

 

Icheb cocked his head in an effort to follow the trail of thought past the nearest cube. He was immediately sorry that he'd tried.

 

_"Greetings, Second of Five,"_ the Queen's voice whispered. _"I wondered if you were going to notice me."_

 

_"Any attempt to re-assimilate me will be futile,"_ Icheb responded bravely.

 

She chuckled, sending shivers of dread down the boy's spine _. "I do not mean to assimilate_ you _, my boy. I mean to destroy you. Unless of course you want to talk about coming home. Do you want to return to me?"_ She paused dramatically _. "No, I think not. You wish to destroy me. Well, that won't happen. Instead, I will destroy you, once and for all. You've chosen bad company, Second of Five. Janeway has defied my will for too long."_

 

Icheb gasped as he felt her power gather around and within him. _"Perhaps I will start with you, Second of Five. That would make her angry, to lose you while she watches."_

 

The tendrils of power slithered against his defenses, and Icheb felt his control over his own mind begin to slip.

 

Janeway and Seven knew he was in contact with the Queen even without the Doctor's report on Icheb's declining vital signs. When he called out, neither was surprised to hear the fear in his voice. "Seven!" he shouted, "I need you."

 

On some level, Seven was aware of exactly the type of help he needed. Without pause she plunged her assimilation injectors into the medical terminal next to her and, with her free hand, entered the sequence to recalibrate her own cortical implant to match the wave being carried by Icheb's.

 

The entrance of Seven into the Collective mind was a move unanticipated by the Queen. She gasped as the former Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One slid her own defenses around the failing shields of the boy.

 

_"Seven of Nine, you will not defeat me,"_ the Queen blustered.

 

_"Perhaps not, but I think you will not succeed. Icheb cannot be assimilated. I will not allow his defenses to be overwhelmed at this time. Withdraw!"_

 

The Queen's rage at Seven's entrance into this special connection was boundless. She let them feel the throbbing depth of her hate. Seven simply ignored her; she was more interested in what she was discovering about this new Collective while her own consciousness was linked with them. Something was not right, something about these drones and their connection to their Queen. Something about the Queen's connection to the Collective . . .

 

The sudden realization of just what that difference was struck Seven and Icheb at the same time, or perhaps, linked as they were, they both heard it at the same time. However it occurred, they both looked shaken as they turned their attention away from their former Queen and outward to their captain.

 

Icheb was the first to speak their findings. "She altered them, Captain. That's why I could hear them. They are hers and hers alone. For them there are no other Borg, no larger Collective."

 

"A sub-Collective?" Janeway asked in disbelief. "How is that possible?"

 

"I do not know, but she has achieved it. She may have done something like I did when I accidentally formed a sub-Collective between Lansor, P'Chan, and Marika Wilkarah," Seven answered, ignoring the Doctor as he scanned Icheb and her for signs of trauma after their brief encounter with the Queen.

 

"What's the purpose?"

 

Icheb answered this readily. "They cannot be turned, or even tempted. The weapons you have utilized in the past will not work on these drones. They are a reflection of the Borg ideal; they will do only her bidding and will not falter."

 

"How can she possibly filter the input of thousands of drones on that cube and insure that they react only as she wishes? She still must control the true Collective and all that it entails."

 

"It requires a great deal of effort," Seven supplied. "And I do not believe she will be able to maintain the connection indefinitely. The strain is beginning to weaken her already."

 

Any response from Janeway was silenced as soon as they heard Tuvok's voice call to Sickbay. _"Tuvok to the Doctor. Prepare to receive casualties."_

 

**[2152]**

 

Forms began to shimmer and take shape around them as the site-to-site transporters deposited wounded all around the room. Janeway stared in horror as crewman after crewman appeared bloodied or worse. She gasped as three forms appeared in front of her: Tuvok, B'Elanna, and someone she could no longer recognize.

 

"Bring crewman Gilmore over here quickly," the Doctor called gently as the three became solid.

 

Gilmore! Kathryn was shocked; the crippled and bleeding form not two feet from her bore little resemblance to the Equinox engineer she remembered. As Tuvok and B'Elanna laid the injured crewman on the nearest bed, Janeway struggled to pull herself together and maintain her composure. She needed to assess the campaign and plan her next move. When Tuvok turned around, she was ready.

 

"Report, Commander."

 

"We were partially successful, Captain. Lieutenant Torres and Engineer Gilmore were able to provide another layer of security to our lockdown protocol. The Chief estimates we have 45 minutes before the Borg gain complete access to engineering and the computer core."

 

"Thank the stars for small favors." Squaring her shoulders, she asked the question she dreaded to ask and knew he hated to answer. "Casualties?"

 

"Twenty-three injured, five fatalities."

 

A deep pit seemed to open in Kathryn's gut. "Who were the five?"

 

"Security officers Dorance, Kiran and Mitchell. And Engineer Harren may have been on Deck 15. Since he was not officially on duty during this Beta shift, the fact he had not evacuated with the rest of the engineering staff was not immediately apparent. What appeared to be his body was observed lying near the warp core."

 

When he paused Kathryn prompted him, concern heavy in her voice. "That's only four. Who was the fifth, Tuvok?"

 

Tuvok looked her in the eye. "The final fatality was Crewman Kenneth Dalby."

 

Kathryn felt her gut twist. She could see the pain his words caused him and understood, though he would resist expressing it, just how difficult the loss of Dalby was to her friend. After a rough beginning, when Dalby and three of his Maquis mates were ordered to undergo a round of training to help them evolve into useful members of Voyager's crew, Dalby had become one of Tuvok's most trusted officers -- if, at times, a slightly insubordinate one. She shot a concerned look towards B'Elanna and knew the stricken look on her face would soon be mirrored on Chakotay's, once he learned of yet another Maquis death.

 

Reluctantly, Kathryn asked, "What happened?"

 

"Dalby was in charge of the second security detail. He and his team executed their assignment flawlessly," Tuvok reported woodenly, as if daring his control to slip. "They were overrun by superior Borg numbers and ripped literally to pieces."

 

"What?"

 

Tuvok's eyes were cold as he met her incredulous gaze. "The Borg have altered their mode of attack. They did not attempt to assimilate Crewman Dalby or his team. Their objective, instead, was to dismember them."

 

 

**[2154]**

 

"Commander, we've got company," Harry reported solemnly. "The cube has entered the nebula."

 

Chakotay looked over his shoulder in alarm. "If you can read them, they have to be close."

 

Harry nodded. "Too close. About 150 kilometers off the starboard side."

 

"Have they spotted us yet?"

 

"Doesn't look like it. They aren't moving this way."

 

"Well," Chakotay said with a sigh, "let's be very careful not to attract their attention. Tom, use the thrusters to push us away from them; quarter thrust."

 

"Commander, that's pretty risky. I might have a better idea."

 

Chakotay's head came up sharply. "I'm listening."

 

"B'Elanna's spent a lot of time lately on that project of hers. It's given me plenty of time to think. Thanks to Tuvok's added helm protocols, I have options that weren't available a few months ago. I've been practicing some new techniques. The alpha-lethianone will hide us, but only within a limited range. There are, however, pockets of hydrogen all around us. If we vent oxygen at the right time we could increase our cover."

 

"That combination of gases is combustible."

 

Tom grinned. "Very. If we release the plasma at the right time it will blind their sensors. Basically, we'll be hiding behind a fireball."

 

Harry interrupted, "You think that's less risky than just moving away?"

 

Tom nodded enthusiastically. "The explosion will appear completely natural. With my new protocols I can maneuver us away without ever drawing their attention. They'll never know we're here."

 

"How do you keep us from being damaged by the fireball?" Chakotay asked. "The last I heard, our shields were down."

 

"A very carefully controlled release. The outer plating of the ship's hull should be enough to protect us, as long as we get out of the way before the fireball builds to maximum."

 

"Even if this works, the fireball will be very temporary," Chakotay observed. "How far do you think we can get before it dissipates and we're revealed to the Borg?"

 

"Far enough that they shouldn't detect us unless they get lucky. And then, if they get too close once more, we do it again."

 

"Commander, you're not really thinking of listening to him are you?" Harry demanded.

 

Chakotay glanced up. "You have a better idea, Harry?"

 

The Ops Chief shook his head.

 

"Then I guess we go with it. Set it up, Lieutenant."

 

Tom nodded as he turned back to his controls. "Aye, sir."

 

It took only a moment to position the ship where Tom needed it to be. He gave Harry a tight grin as he signaled the ready. "Go ahead, Harry."

 

The oxygen vented slowly, no more than a trickle by normal standards; but when it reached the pocket of hydrogen, the explosion was fantastic. Tom's fingers moved deftly across his control panel as he shifted the ship into the wake of the explosion. Voyager rolled and bucked in front of the line of fire, moving away from the enemy along a seemingly random path.

 

The ride was less than smooth. At least three minor tremors could be felt as Voyager moved along the flight path. "We've got minor hull breaches on decks nine, six and one," Harry reported.

 

Chakotay turned sharply. "Deck one?"

 

"The Ready Room. It's nothing serious. Minor damage only."

 

"Paris," Chakotay warned, "I'll let _you_ tell the captain you just trashed her office."

 

*


	5. Act 4

** Act 4 **

 

**[Local Ship's Time: 2200]**

 

Janeway took a measured look around the briefing room, studying the people gathered there. For the most part they appeared unafraid, even confident. _Funny_ , she thought, _a lone Federation starship with Borg intruders, no chance of assistance, and the crew wasn't panicking._ Her people were tense, yes, and frightened, to be sure, but not panicked; they had certainly come a long way in seven years. She wondered if any Alpha Quadrant ship would have such an outwardly calm and collected set of officers. She doubted it.

 

"What's the status of the cube?" she asked.

 

Harry replied quickly. "As far as we've been able to determine, Tom's plan worked. We haven't spotted them since igniting the gas and moving away." He smiled ruefully, "Of course, they could be a few hundred kilometers away and we wouldn't know it. But they wouldn't know it either."

 

Kathryn smiled. "What they don't know shouldn't hurt us. What are our visitors downstairs up to now?"

 

"Too much," B'Elanna snarled. "I've done all I can to limit their access, Captain. They're minutes away from gaining total control. After that, I'm not sure we'll even have a self-destruct option. Seven and Icheb are doing all they can, but if the Queen decides they're too inconvenient, she'll turn the power of the whole Collective against them."

 

Janeway was nodding. "We're going to throw everything we have at them. It's now or never, people."

 

B'Elanna shook her head. "Throw what? Their shields adapt to our weapons before we do any real damage. In their present state, they're out to kill us, not assimilate us, which takes away any attack through nanoprobes. Our hand-to-hand fighting tactics were a disaster. Tuvok and I managed to hold our own, but even we can't compete with Borg strength for long."

 

Janeway could hear the frustration in the Chief's voice. The battle in her department had not gone well, and B'Elanna was blaming herself for the losses.

 

"I've been thinking about that,” Janeway said. “Starfleet made the exchange of Borg incident reports a high priority for the datastream. Despite an incursion into Sector 001 a few years ago, we've had more sustained contact with them in the last seven years than the folks at home. Starfleet was hoping to find something in our encounters that would bolster Federation defenses in the event of another attack, but I think I may have found something from their reports that will give us the advantage.

 

"When the Borg launched their second campaign against Earth, Picard came up with a unique approach to removing them from his ship."

 

"What tactic did the Enterprise captain employ?" Tuvok asked, with no hint of anticipation.

 

"Projectile weapons."

 

"As in guns?" Tom asked, not sure he could believe his ears. "You mean go after the Borg with shotguns?"

 

"A little more sophisticated than that, Mr. Paris. Think automatic rifles, machine guns," Janeway said, warming to her subject. "Picard and his crew were able to wipe out several drones in just a few seconds. The drones' personal shielding is designed for energy weapons. I doubt the Borg have ever assimilated a culture armed only with projectile weapons, so they've never needed a defense against them."

 

"Unless they've adapted to them because of what Picard and his crew did, it should work," Chakotay said thoughtfully. "But if we issue knives or other hand-to-hand weapons, we'll each have something else to use against them if the projectiles fail."

 

"It's hard to adapt to a blade in your chest," Tom agreed.

 

Janeway said briskly, "I want every available crewmember assigned to an assault team. We're going to have to do this the hard way, but thanks to Tuvok's drills, I think we're better prepared to do it."

 

"Your orders, Captain?" Tuvok asked.

 

"Chakotay and Tom, you'll remain on the Bridge. Keep us hidden until we can make a run away from that cube. Tuvok, we need to replicate the weapons we don't have. I want every crewman equipped with a high caliber, fully automatic machine gun with a range of at least 50 meters -- as well as a blade of the crewman's choice." She paused to give them a chance to object. "Questions?"

 

No one answered. "Then let's get moving. We have a lot of work to do. Dismissed."

 

As the rest of the officers filed out, Chakotay remained seated. Kathryn cocked an eyebrow at him but remained silent until they were alone. "I gather we're going to argue about me going along."

 

"No."

 

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Well, that's a switch." She stood, moved closer to him and sat on the table's edge. "So what are we going to argue about?"

 

"My staying behind. Tom can handle the job alone. You need everyone you can get."

 

"I see. And you're just the man for the job?"

 

Now it was his turn to smile; but it didn't last long. This was too important for joking. "I'm not going to sit in that chair again and wait for you to come back. You've faced the Borg on your own enough times. This time I come with you."

 

She studied his expression for a moment. "That's how you really feel about it?"

 

"That's how I really feel." He met her gaze defiantly. "Either we both go, or we wait for them on the Bridge together."

 

"I guess we both go." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "If you wanted to come along, Chakotay, all you really had to do was ask."

 

 

**[2210]**

 

Seven stood next to Icheb's regeneration alcove. The boy looked asleep, but she knew he was concentrating on his task of monitoring the drones.

 

The captain's voice interrupted her thoughts. _"Janeway to Seven of Nine."_

 

"Go ahead, Captain."

 

_"Seven, what's the status there?"_

 

"Icheb's link remains intact. The Queen has made no further move of aggression against him. That may change if she discovers he is relaying information to us regarding their intentions."

 

_"Tuvok tells me the drones have breached the lockdown protocols. They've exited Engineering, but the emergency force fields are holding. They haven't gained access to any other deck or system."_

 

"Designing the lockdown protocols as departmental in nature was wise of Commander Tuvok. While they have Engineering, they do not have access to the whole ship."

 

Seven glanced at Icheb as he opened his eyes to take in the conversation. The boy seemed to be dealing better with his insecurities and fear. She hoped he was up to the challenge they were about to ask of him.

 

_"Seven, how is it coming along on your end?"_ Janeway asked. _"Is your link to Icheb ready?"_

 

"I can initiate a link with Icheb at your command."

 

_"And the Queen won't be able to detect you?"_

 

"I do not believe so. I have utilized the same process of cortical node adjustments that made her connection with these drones possible. In essence, I will not be connected to the drones or the Queen, only to Icheb. It is he who is connected to all."

 

_"Good luck, you two."_

 

"The same to you, Captain." Seven replied.

 

*

 

Janeway closed the link and continued down the corridor toward the impending battle. She thought of those two former drones who were even now struggling to insure that their  oppressors could not harm another crewmember. It was disheartening to think that the drones she was about to send to their deaths had the potential to be what these two had become.

 

Outside the entrance to Jeffries tube J26-T, Kathryn and Chakotay found their team waiting for them. "I have divided our available complement of seventy-eight into teams of three or four," Tuvok began his report. "The other teams are already en route to their destinations. Captain, you and Commander Chakotay will be joined by Ensign Culhane and Ensign Jenkins. Lieutenant Ayala and I will have Ensign Celes.

 

"At your order, we will proceed to Deck 11 via the Jeffries tubes. Each team will have six seconds to lower the force fields at their location and enter Deck 11."

 

"I'm assuming you split us up to cover all the entrances?" Chakotay questioned.

 

"Affirmative. Also, our room for maneuvering will be limited due to the narrow confines of the tubes. I believe we will have crew entering the deck from every possible access point."

 

Janeway nodded. "Let's get started before they work their way around the next layer of security lockdowns."

 

As they neared their own access point, Janeway made sure her weapon was tightly secured against her upper torso. "We're just above the main engineering doors. Tuvok and Ayala should be about ten meters to our left. We have six seconds. Be ready to jump."

 

She lowered the force field. Almost instantly, the four of them dropped through the opening and onto Deck 11.

 

 

**[2221]**

 

The fact there were Borg all around was to be expected -- after all, they were right outside Engineering -- but Janeway wasn't ready for the heavy blow the drone behind her delivered to the back of her head almost as soon as her feet hit the deck.

 

Gasping in pain and struggling to maintain her balance, Kathryn whirled around, ready to face her attacker, but Chakotay was already there. Raising his knife, he slid it easily between the seams in the drone's armor that covered its midsection. The drone grappled with the Commander, trying to shake free and deliver a blow with its arms, but Chakotay held it firmly. His second thrust found a vital organ, and the creature dropped to the floor.

 

Kathryn raised her own weapon as more drones advanced on her team. She let loose a spray of bullets while Chakotay bent to retrieve his knife. The drones halted as the bullets found their mark, but they did not fall.

 

"Aim for their heads, Kathryn," Chakotay called as he fired his own weapon. "That armor isn't designed to stop bullets, but it's thick enough to slow them down. It's going to take several rounds before you hit flesh."

 

Janeway nodded and raised her voice so those nearby would hear her clearly. "Shoot to kill. We don't want to give their nanoprobes the opportunity to regenerate any damage we inflict."

 

Several yards away Ayala stepped into the path of a moving drone and swung his weapon expertly. "Bullets may get slowed down," he called to Chakotay, "but a good knife will always slide right through."

 

A sudden shove against his shoulder drove Ayala to the ground. He looked up to see Tuvok standing over him, his hands locked around a massive extension on an unseen Borg's hand. "Do not forget to search for additional enemies, Lieutenant," he chastised.

 

As the drone smashed its second arm into the small of Tuvok's back, Ayala drew his second blade and plunged it into the crease of the drone's leg armor. Its reaction gave Tuvok the opportunity to loosen his own hold. With his firearm, he quickly put an end to the struggle.

 

Reaching down, he pulled Ayala from the floor, and the junior officer smiled, "Thanks, Commander."

 

"Any time, Lieutenant."

 

 

**[2224]**

 

_"What are you doing?!"_

 

_"I am unable to extricate myself from contact with your drones,"_ Icheb replied calmly. _"I am therefore attempting to more fully enter the Collective."_

 

_"You will NOT,"_ the Queen replied _. "You are imperfect. Flawed. I will eliminate you."_

 

_"You cannot,"_ Icheb replied again with great calm. _"I can feel the strain the current situation is creating within you. Captain Janeway's assault on the drones is robbing you of your concentration. You will not be able to maintain control of them for much longer."_

 

_"What are you doing?"_ she demanded again as Icheb increased his activity.

 

_"I am relaying my experiences aboard Voyager to the members of this Collective."_

 

_"Stop!"_

 

_"No! Resistance is futile."_

 

 

**[2226]**

 

"It's working." Chakotay noted, sliding closer to his captain. "The Borg appear distracted. A normal drone can handle multiple sources of input easily, but these don't seem able to do so."

 

"I'd say now is the perfect opportunity to end this," Janeway observed, as she stepped forward.

 

"I'm right behind you, Captain."

 

 

**[2239]**

 

Kathryn took another look around. Deck 11 was littered with bodies. Blood splattered the walls. Holes of various sizes were scattered across every surface. It was not a pleasant sight, but there was relief in knowing that none of the bodies belonged to her crew. There were casualties, but to her knowledge, no fatalities. That was something to be thankful for.

 

"Let's get this cleaned up," she told Chakotay. "Janeway to Paris."

 

_"Go ahead, Captain."_

 

"Tom, we're done down here. Can you get us out of the nebula without attracting the cube?"

 

_"Affirmative, Captain. Engineering just restored control. We are fully operational."_

 

"Set a course out of here, Mr. Paris. We're on our way to the Bridge, but don't wait on us."

 

_"Aye, Captain. Engaged."_

_*_

 

_"Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."_

 

Kathryn answered as she and Chakotay entered the turbolift. "Go ahead, Seven."

 

_"Captain, Icheb's plan still seems to be affecting the drones aboard the cube. I do not believe we will be pursued."_

 

"Can you pull Icheb out of there, Seven? I don't want him in any more danger."

 

_"Affirmative. I have calculated the changes needed to alter his transceiver frequency. Without knowledge of the new setting, the Queen will be unable to reach him."_

 

The lift stopped, and Kathryn stepped out onto the Bridge. "Excellent, Seven. Proceed."

 

She and Chakotay took their seats. "Tom, what's our status?"

 

"Whatever Icheb did, it's working. We've cleared the nebula. There's no sign of the cube."

 

"Ahead, warp factor 8, your choice of headings. Let's not be too predictable, just in case she tries to follow."

 

"Aye, Captain. Ahead warp 8, pilot's choice."

 

*

 

 


	6. Epilogue

** Epilogue **

 

**Stardate 54458.5    [Local Ship's Time: 2017]**

 

When the door chime sounded, Kathryn responded, "Come."

 

Chakotay stepped in and immediately noted her somber expression as she studied a PADD. "I'm really hungry," he said lightly. "Hope you cooked enough."

 

She smiled slightly, "You mean you hope I replicated enough. Though even that hasn't always been hassle free, or with optimal results, as you know."

 

Chakotay grinned and held out a bottle of wine, "True, but after the last two days, I just might be able to eat anything you dish up. You know, once you've faced one terror, you can face others with greater confidence."

 

This time Kathryn grinned and playfully jabbed the bottle into his ribs. "Funny man." Clearly loath to disrupt the casual atmosphere he'd established, she nonetheless said, "Have you seen the final casualty report?"

 

He shook his head. "How bad?"

 

She placed the bottle on the table before handing him the PADD. "The Doctor wasn't exactly able to work his usual magic this time."

 

Chakotay scanned the list. "Twelve out of twenty-three crewman who were injured have already been released from Sickbay," he said optimistically. "Did the Doctor elaborate any more on the condition of the others?"

 

"Hickman and Ashmore will be fine in a few days, he thinks," Janeway replied. "Scroll down and you'll see the rest."

 

Chakotay nodded, reading rapidly. "I see Pierce and Gilmore are still listed as being in critical condition."

 

"So far, he hasn't been able to bring Pierce's seizures under control," Janeway said, shutting her eyes briefly. "And he can't seem to bring Marla out of her coma."

 

Chakotay took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "All we can do now is hope." He paused. "She really came through for us when we needed her, you know."

 

"Yes, B'Elanna made sure I was aware of that," Janeway said, then made a visible effort to change the subject. "I saw you speaking to Icheb earlier. How is he doing, really?"

 

Chakotay frowned, "I think he's all right, but it's hard to tell. He's not an easy young man to read at any time. I think this experience has shaken him more than he wants to admit. He thought he was invulnerable to the Collective -- couldn't be drawn in -- and found out he was wrong."

 

"At the Memorial Service tonight he seemed almost non-responsive," Janeway noted.

 

"That's one way of putting it," Chakotay said. "But I think he'll work through it. Seven and B'Elanna are going to keep an eye on him."

 

"Hmm, we might want to find him a different counselor. Maybe someone who is a bit more at ease about discussing their emotions?"

 

Chakotay grinned as he finished pouring the wine and took his seat. "Point taken. I'll talk to him."

 

"Good."

 

"Speaking of the memorial," Chakotay added quietly, "I thought your speech perfectly expressed what we were all feeling."

 

Kathryn sighed. "I hope so -- not that I want an excuse to try it out again. We've buried enough of this family. It seems like every time I turn around we've lost another one of our people."

 

He studied her carefully. "I hope you're not blaming yourself. None of these deaths are your fault."

 

"Then whose is it, Chakotay?" she countered. "I'm the captain. It's my responsibility to keep them all safe."

 

"Everyone on this ship knows you did all you could to protect them," Chakotay said firmly.

 

Kathryn nodded. Not trusting herself to answer that statement, she remained silent.

 

"Let's have a toast," Chakotay suggested. Lifting his glass, in his mind's eye he envisioned each of their fallen crewmembers in turn. "To those we have lost. Mortimer Harren, Devon Mitchell, Tim Dorance, and Alex Kiran. You will not be forgotten."

 

Kathryn added hers before he could lower his glass, "And to Ken Dalby, Maquis, Starfleet officer, friend and warrior. You will be missed."

 

"Thanks," Chakotay softly said. "He would have liked knowing you offered a toast for him."

 

They ate quietly for a while, reflecting on the day's events and how quickly some things -- although not all -- had fallen back into a regular routine. Finally, Kathryn voiced one thought that was on both their minds. "The Borg -- this isn't over, Chakotay. The Queen will be back. If she could create a new strain of drone once, make them so formidable, she'll try again."

 

"I know. She wasn't out to assimilate us this time. It wasn't about defending her territory or retrieving Seven. This was about annihilating us."

 

"She's going to have to try harder than that," Kathryn quipped bravely. She held out her hand to him.

 

He took it and gripped it tightly. "She will. After this, I hope we'll be ready."

 

Kathryn smiled as she looked down at their entwined hands. "Ready...and waiting."

 

*****************************


	7. Interlude: In the Silence of the Night

**Stardate 54458.9   [Local Ship's Time: 2347]**

 

**In the Silence of the Night **

****

His eyes fluttered briefly, then opened wide, as the mechanical voice of his regeneration cubicle intoned, "Regeneration cycle incomplete."

 

Icheb stepped forward quickly. Crackling energy discharges bathed his face in pale green light as he walked to the edge of the platform and, as softly as he could, slipped off the step onto the floor of Cargo Bay Two. He looked over his shoulder. His movement had not disturbed Seven's regeneration cycle as far as he could tell, but he remained in the same position for 36.2 seconds to be certain.

 

He knew what had disrupted his own cycle. Images of the events of the previous days still haunted him, like the nightmares about Borg drones overrunning the ship that Naomi had confided often woke her from a sound sleep. Her nightmare had almost come true two nights ago. Icheb had been instrumental in saving her and all the crew of Voyager then, but he knew it simply wasn't enough. As long as the Borg Queen still existed, none of them, in any quadrant of the galaxy, would ever be safe from her malevolence. The Borg Queen would only be satisfied with perfection, and that could only be attained through total domination.

 

In the dim light of the quiet cargo bay, faces arose before him. A laughing Ken Dalby, teaching Icheb a trick play on the pool table in Sandrine's that had won him more than a few credits from their crew mates. Devon Mitchell, doggedly lifting weights in the gym and suggesting to Icheb that while his remaining Borg implants might give him physical power beyond the norm, working out regularly would train his muscles to make him even more formidable to his enemies. Tim Dorance, sitting in the Mess Hall lounge area, wistfully telling Icheb about his home planet and his family, who sent him letters through every datastream and impatiently awaited his return. That would never happen now. Alex Kiran, short, compact, with enhanced musculature befitting a childhood spent on a planet with gravity 17% greater than Earth normal. All gone.

 

And Mortimer Harren, who always spent as much time in his refuge on Deck 15 as he could, working on his theories about the Big Bang. He'd often invited Icheb to join him to "pick the brains" of the young former Borg about all he'd absorbed about the subject during his brief indoctrination inside a Borg maturation chamber. Icheb's rescheduled visit to Deck 15 would not happen now. Mortimer will never be able to discover the proof he'd sought to invalidate [Schlezholt's Theory of Multiple Big Bangs](https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Schlezholt%27s_Theory_of_Multiple_Big_Bangs). Icheb would miss him.

 

They'd looked so serene, as if asleep, as they lay in their individual photon torpedo casings, waiting for the moment after all the eulogies had been said, once the captain had shared a poignant tribute to their bravery -- the moment when each, in succession, would have their mortal remains shot into space on a trajectory that would take them towards the Alpha Quadrant, which they'd never reach as living beings. Perhaps the Kobali would find them and reanimate them. That would be fitting, but Icheb didn't believe it was possible. Voyager had traveled far beyond Kobali space. More likely, their bodies would float towards home, silent witnesses to the brutality of the Borg.

 

His crewmates may have looked peaceful, but their lives had ended in horror. The uniforms covering the corpses' bodies hid the fact that their limbs had to be stitched back onto their torsos. The Queen's drones had literally torn them limb from limb.

 

Icheb had been spared from having anything to do with that sad duty himself, but he'd heard about it. Samantha Wildman and Noah Lessing had stood at the far end of Sickbay, speaking quietly about what they'd had to do to ready the bodies for burial. They undoubtedly thought Icheb was too far away from them to hear, but he did. He hadn't needed to see what they'd been forced to do for the bodies to visualize them. When his Children's Collective captured the alien pilot and tried to assimilate him, they'd ended up butchering him instead. When he still possessed a cortical node, while Mezoti had been on board, they'd gone over everything both of them remembered from their time on their cube, even that day. At the time, their incomplete assimilations had been sufficient to blunt the guilt for what they'd done. Afterwards, they knew. Even Azan and Rebi had felt the pain of the terrible things they'd done under the direction of First, who mistakenly hoped to attract the attention and benevolence of the Borg Queen. Icheb now knew that "benevolence" and "the Borg Queen" were mutually exclusive concepts.

 

The Doctor had called Icheb into Sickbay to give him an assignment: to program nanoprobes capable of repairing the brain damage suffered by Marla Gilmore and Darren Pierce during the fighting. "You possess a great deal of knowledge about nanoprobe therapy, Icheb. I'm too busy taking care of my patients to give this project the time required to discover a solution on my own. Will you help?"

 

"Of course, Doctor," Icheb replied. As if that was even a question.

 

Now, in the quiet of a night lit only by green flashes of electrical discharges arcing over the regeneration cubicles in Cargo Bay Two, Icheb knew he wanted to do more. Yes, he would do the research. He'd find a cure that would awaken Darren and Marla from their unnatural sleep; but he had another task to complete, too. There _must_ be a way to help the crew of Voyager, the people who'd rescued him from death twice, who'd welcomed him as one of their own and nurtured him in ways his natural parents never had. With the exception of the other Borg children, in the care of Azan and Rebi's people now and far behind him, the people who mattered the most to Icheb lived on this ship. They were his Collective, his family. He had to find a way to protect them from the malice of the Borg Queen.

 

He had to end the terror, to destroy the Queen before she fulfilled her promise to destroy him...

 

... and to destroy Voyager, and everyone he'd grown to love...

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Ethical Considerations --Voyager's crew managed to repulse the Borg attack, but at a very great cost. In the aftermath of the fighting, one of the crew takes on a mission that will change his entire life.


End file.
